


if you hold me thats okay

by givelourrylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Asperger Syndrome, Autism, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Protective Harry, SO MUCH FLUFF, alternative universe, its kinda cute i guess, its nothing bad i swear, light autism, s2g be good with me, this is my first one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givelourrylove/pseuds/givelourrylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis suffers from Asperger‘s Syndrome, though he wouldn’t necessarily call it suffering. Louis thinks of it as living his life normally but enjoying less human contact than others.<br/>Nevertheless, there is one person whose contact and touches he enjoys, and guess what</p><p> </p><p>it's Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Louis walks down the halls of his school, his shoes shoving the dust of the dirty floor further down the hallway. He clamps his books tightly, nails scratching marks in the covers. He’s nervous. But he always is, so he doesn’t really mind.

Louis suffers from Asperger‘s Syndrome, though he wouldn’t necessarily call it suffering. Louis thinks of it as living his life normally but enjoying less human contact than others. He doesn’t understand why someone would want to have people around them anyway; they’re just loud, rude and say things he doesn’t understand. Not that he is dumb or retarded, no, he just doesn’t understand what people say, when they use metaphors or tell jokes, which he knows are supposed to be funny, but Louis just doesn’t get why people laugh at blondes or at what people answer to “knock knock”.

Neither does he understand why people his age do what they do, like drinking or going out, but his mother said that that’s okay, because there are other people sharing this opinion, and Louis smiled at that, because usually there are no other people sharing his opinion.

Louis’ family and all his teachers and his classmates know how he is thinking. Not  _what_  he’s thinking, no one could ever know nor understand that, but they know he isn’t thinking the same they do, yet they don’t pick on him, because last time he was picked on, which was when he was about nine, and now he is sixteen, he starting screaming really loudly. But not like the cheerleaders or the boys on the bleachers at football games scream, which Louis finds unnecessary. It was growling, and crying and more screaming and everyone around him got scared.

Also, he started hitting the people around him. _Really hard._  Two had a bloody nose after the incident and four of them a black eye. Louis hasn’t told anyone but he was quite proud of himself, because this made him aware of the fact that he could defend himself.

However after hitting those people, Louis didn’t stop screaming and crying. He curled up in a ball on the floor. He covered his ears and waited for everything to stop, but it only stopped after some time because he fainted. He doesn’t remember anything that happened after this. His mother cries when someone mentions it, and he doesn’t want to know about sad things that make his mother cry, so he doesn’t ask about it.

Since then, Louis goes to another school, but it is not a school for  _“kids with special needs”_ , because that’s not what Louis is. He just doesn’t enjoy interacting with others. So he does everything alone. He walks the hallways alone. He sits alone in class and he walks home alone.

He doesn’t eat at school. His mother thinks he does, but he just waits in one of the classrooms until the break is over. So that’s another thing Louis doesn’t do. He doesn’t eat at lunchtime because he doesn’t like hearing and seeing other people eating. God knows why, but he just doesn’t like it. Also, the cafeteria isn’t nice. It’s stressful and loud and the food there sometimes reminds him of his two mice at home and he wouldn’t want to eat something that reminded him of someone he loves.

Today isn’t any different; Louis likes that because he hates changes.  _What he likes is the colour green._  It seems calming to him, so he wears it a lot and a lot of his school supplies are green and his room is painted green and he likes people with green eyes, because he can look them in the eyes and feel calm because he enjoys looking at green things.

He’s stumbling in one of the unused classrooms and puts his books on one of the desks and starts sorting them by how much he likes the most important scientists of the subject. So he puts his math-book on top because he really likes Pythagoras and slips his literature book under the last one because he doesn’t like Shakespeare.

He’s just started to practise some maths, keeping his head only a few inches above his book, when someone enters the room. Louis doesn’t look up from his paper work yet, he needs to finish his calculations first, because he doesn’t like being interrupted.

Also he hopes the person will just leave if he doesn’t talk.

Unfortunately the person stays, and Louis stifles a groan, because his mother once told him that groaning in front of other people would be rude. When Louis looks up, he sees a tall boy about fourteen feet away from him. Louis gets frightened by tall people, and this boy is really tall, so he backs away in his chair when he comes closer.

“Can I sit here?” The boy asks, and he points at the chair next to Louis and Louis wants to shake his head and tell the boy to leave but he doesn’t say anything because the boy is kind of beautiful.

The boy raises an eyebrow and Louis can’t really tell what that means, because he just can’t.

“Shall I sit somewhere else? That’s alright, I’m just gonna…” He mumbles and stumbles across the room to a chair six feet away from Louis. Judging by the fourteen words Louis has heard slip out of the boys mouth until now, he decides that he likes his voice. It’s very calming and quiet and not noisy and he cannot imagine him saying rude things or jokes he doesn’t understand. He kind of wants the boy to speak more.

“Is this okay for you or should I leave?” The boy says and in that moment Louis decides, that he does like his voice.  _A lot._  He says “Yes”, but leaves it with that, focusing on his book again. Exactly thirteen minutes pass before the boy says something.

“I- My name is Harry.” He states and turns around in his chair and Louis sees him smiling out of the corner of his eye. Louis nods and forces himself to look up at the boy who is apparently named Harry.

Louis likes Harry’s name because it has two consonants in it and he thinks, maybe Harry will like his name too, so he tells him that his name is Louis. He now stares at Harry, taking his features in, because he wants to be able to tell his mom exactly what the boy named Harry looked like.

Louis’ eyes scan Harry’s face; he has green eyes, really green and he likes them because they seem calm but they are also a little frightening because they seem curious too. He notices that Harry’s skin doesn’t have any freckles, which is sad because Louis likes freckles. His cheeks are coloured in a faint blush and the skin of his forehead is slightly creased by the way he looks at Louis. Also, Louis is a little amazed by Harry’s hair; he has really dark curls and they frame the side of his face but above his forehead it goes up in a quiff, which Louis would also like to have but his mom won’t let him use any products for his hair, telling him she loves the way it looks naturally, so Louis has no choice but being happy with the way his fringe keeps falling onto his forehead and how it’s always a little messy at the top of his head.

Harry’s lips are really pink and Louis notices how he presses them to form a line before he blushes more and turns his face away from him and Louis knows now, that he’s been staring for too long. He wants to say he’s sorry but he can’t because he isn’t because Harry is really nice to look at and he wants to look at him and keep staring.

His mother had told him that lying is really bad and that it can hurt people and Louis doesn’t know how but he definitely doesn’t want to hurt Harry.

Harry starts playing with the sleeves of his grey sweater and opens his mouth to say something but there’s nothing coming out.

“Uhm… what are you studying?” Harry eventually asks and gestures to Louis maths supplies.

“We’re supposed to revise linear functions but I understand them all so I’m doing calculus.” Louis doesn’t understand that Harry was expecting just something like  _I'm doing maths_  or  _I'm doing English_  as an answer. But Harry is a kind, absolutely not judgemental person and he goes with it and says:

“I know, linear functions are pretty easy. I started with calculus too, but I got distracted by my book here.” He holds the book that’s been on his desk in Louis’ direction. The title reads “To Kill A Mockingbird” and Louis knows it’s a classic novel but he’s never read it because he doesn’t read a lot since he knows he’s better at maths and physiques.

When Louis doesn’t take the book from Harry, he pulls back to hold it firmly in his hands as If it was a treasure and Louis decides that he likes Harry’s hands too, because they seem safe and protecting. Louis doesn’t like being touched by strangers at all, but he’d like to have Harry as a friend so that he’s not a stranger anymore and it won’t make him angry if he touches him.

“It’s a novel by Harper Lee and it’s from 1960. My English teacher recommended it to me since she knows that I read a lot” And Harry  _giggles_  at that, which gives Louis a really weird feeling inside of his chest and he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad. It’s tingling and he feels the corners of his mouth being quirked up in a smile although it wasn’t his intention to smile right now.

“Do you like to read?” Harrys asks and Louis notices a really warm undertone in his voice that makes his knees go weak but he still doesn’t understand and he feels kind of helpless. He shakes his head, because he doesn’t like to read and Harry smiles warmly at that.

That is it for that day. They don’t talk more although Louis would have liked to talk more, which is strange because he never wants to talk to people who are not his family or Maryanne who is his supervisor.

When he’s home, he runs into the kitchen and almost falls, because Louis hardly ever runs except for when he wants to escape something.

“Lou, honey, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” His mother asks, taking him in his arms because Louis has allowed her to do this once a day.

There are a lot of people his age who don’t tell their parents anything, but since Louis hasn’t got anyone else to talk to he likes to tell his mom everything. He doesn’t like to tell his sisters though, because they laugh and giggle a lot and Louis hates being interrupted.

_“I met a boy today and his name is Harry and his eyes are really green and he likes to read so his English teacher recommended a book to him which I’ve never read and he has a really nice voice and he isn’t loud or rude or tells jokes or uses metaphors and he said 82 words and I said 19.” (Louis likes counting spoken words because he likes to have an overview of a conversation.)_

 He doesn’t even stop to get some air until his mother stops him by softly nudging his shoulder, because she can’t do any more than that like hugging him again or holding his hand because Louis would freak out because in the end he’s not really enjoying any touches.

“I’m so happy for you, Louis, this is amazing!” And Jay really is glad, because this is the first time ever that her son has done something like that and she really couldn’t be happier and she wants to talk about it with someone so she calls Maryanne, while Louis takes his plate with noodles that don’t remind him of his mice and goes upstairs because he likes to eat on his own.

This night, Louis thinks about Harry a lot. And it’s kind of scaring him because his mind is nothing but  _HarryHarryHarry_  and he’s not used to his mind being all  _HarryHarryHarry_. So at one point during the night Louis jumps up, literally jumps, and takes his mice Bonnie and Clyde out of their cage and lets them run around in his room for twenty-one minutes and puts them back in their cage again.

 

Louis doesn’t even recognize himself again the next day as he carefully pushes the cafeteria doors open, hoping to find Harry there after he hasn’t seen him in the hallways the whole day.

“What am I doing here” he whispers to himself while squeezing his hands to fists in the pockets of his jacket. No one even looks up when he enters the room, and he’s relieved about that. His eyes scan for the tall boy with the stunning curls, when suddenly someone comes up to him.

“Hey, fag” He says and Louis recognizes him as not-Harry.  _[He has dark brown hair too, but it’s weird, not like Harrys. Also the boy has an angry expression plastered to his face, Louis can tell that. But Louis doesn’t really see the devilish smirk that he’s trying to hide.]_  Louis doesn’t know what  _fag_  means or what he wants him to do, so he just stares, waiting for him to do something.

“Hey, hasn’t your bitch of a mother taught you to greet people back?” Louis is taken aback by the words of the teen and takes his time to form a proper reply because he hasn’t understood all of the words that were used, but he does know it was a question.

“She did.” Louis’ voice is calm, but not because he’s provoking him, he just isn’t aware of the situation he’s in.

“You heard that little bitch?” The boy’s voice hollers and with that he catches all the attention.

The thing is: the people  _know_  Louis is like that, they all know it, yet no one seems to bother enough to make this strange boy stop.

“Hey, Austin, stop. He’s that autistic kid, don’t take this too far.” Another boy pats Austin’s shoulder and tries to pull him back a little, yet he doesn’t put enough effort into it to make him stop.

“Oh, now that’s good to know. Let’s treat him how those retards should be treated, shall we?”

_Austin then makes a mistake. A huge mistake._

He pushes Louis and Louis’ mind goes blank. He furrows his eyebrows and clenches his hands into fists, so hard, that his nails dig into the skin of his palms and leave little half-moon formed marks there.

He chokes on a growl and smashes his left fist right into Austin’s face, who whines loudly.

“Are you insane?! Back off, kid!” he scolds, but that doesn’t even make Louis  _think_  about stopping. He kicks the boys shin, then his thigh and Austin trips over someone’s foot and falls and Louis keeps kicking him, also in his face, until he’s bleeding and no one stops him.

The cafeteria is completely silent, like a vaccuum of dozens of students whose breaths are taken. A loud growl chimes, followed by girls screams, who consider themselves as too weak to do something else.  _And suddenly everyone considers themselves as too weak to do something._

That is until a hand grabs Louis’ arm from where he’s hovering over Austin on the ground. He’s being lifted up almost effortlessly, his fists and legs still kicking around. Louis feels the palm of a large, warm hand on his back and another one clamped around his arm and he’s being dragged out of the cafeteria.

“Get off me!” Louis cries out, because he just  _hates_  being touched.

“Shhh” the person whispers and softly pulls him into one of the restrooms. It takes Louis some time to realize it’s been Harry who got him away from the boy. And it hits him like a fucking bus.

 “It’s alright” Harry mumbles and Louis knees suddenly go weak again and  _he doesnt understand_ , because he’s upset and he wants to scream but Harry’s presence makes him want to lie down and be quiet. And that’s what he does, eventually.

 _And Harry's okay with it._  And Louis’ heart feels like it’s  _melting_.

“Come here” Harry scoots down next to him and carefully pats his nose with a wet paper towel and Louis just notices that his nose is bleeding a little because Austin-boy obviously does like to hit back. And as unlikely as it is for Louis, he leans a bit into Harry so that his shoulder rests against Harry’s collar. And then he cries.

“Are you alright, Louis, I remember?” And Louis shakes his head, because no, he's not alright. And shaking his head makes him feel a bit dizzy so he shuts his eyes and concentrates on multiplying primes.

“Why don’t you get up and I give you a lift home, seems like it was a pretty shit day for you.” Harry says and reaches his hand out for Louis to grab it.

“Please don’t touch me” The words shoot out of Louis mouth although he didn’t plan to say them, because he actually would not mind Harry touching him.

“I won’t, no worries.”

 

They’re at the school parking lot and Louis follows Harry suit although his mother told him not to go with strangers. Louis has decided that Harry isn’t a stranger to him anymore, because he knows his name and his eye colour and that he likes to read and that should be enough to consider him as not-a-stranger.

Harry opens the door of his car for Louis and helps him climb in, because he think Louis is fragile and that he could break if he tripped or hit his head. 

Harry gets in too and buckles his seatbelt while starting the engine. His gaze falls to Louis, who curled up on the seat, his head burrowed inbetween his knees. 

Quiet sobs fall from his lips and every one of them makes Harry flinch, so he pulls over by a nearby drugstore, unbuckles his seatbelt again and scoots over to where Louis is seated.

Harry softly tugs at Louis' shirt and eventually sneaks his arms around his small figure. Louis reluctantly gives in and falls softly onto Harry's warm chest with a light thud.

_Louis has no idea why on earth he enjoys what Harry's doing, but he does. He leans into the soft touch of Harry and Harry is everywhere, he's in his hair, on his lower back, on his sides, everywhere. Louis is surrounded by the soft touches, the homelike scent, the tickling of curls in his neck, that are Harry. He wants him around all the time, wants to be in his arms all the time, wants him to be the one to calm him down when he's upset._

_  
_Harry is so kind, so caring, so lovingly, Louis feels like drowning in all the nice things Harry is. His hand rests reassuringly on his lower back, the fingers of his other hand slowly moving on his scalp and his chest feels like a shield, a protecting shield, where it's touching Louis' side.

It's just then that Louis realizes, Harry's humming. He doesn't know what he's humming but he definitely does, and it's so calming, Louis is about to fall asleep right on the spot if he didn't have all those issues.

_  
_Although he enjoys _Harry,_ Louis gets scared. It's too much at once, so Louis pushes him away, along with all the comfort he gives him. 

 _And Harry is okay with it. He's fucking okay with being pushed away_  and Louis eyes are now glistening with tears again because he feels like he hurt Harry.

"What's your address, love?" He asks once they're on the street again. 

Louis mumbles his address under his breath and Harry nods.

"Not far away from where I live" 

Louis doesn't say anything because what Harry said was not a question nor an answer and his head is just too full, too busy to say something.

 

 

"I don't want home" he then mumbles.

"I'm sorry, love, what was that?"

"I don't want home, Harry."

"Why don't you want home, love?"

"Mother is going to cry. She's gonna cry. _My fault_."

The last few words just slip out of Louis mouth and he knows he shouldn't have said them so he clamps his arm really tightly, squeezing and scratching until the milky skin there is red and sore. Harry notices and takes his arm, softly stroking it until Louis pulls back, letting both of his arms dangle idly next to his sides.

"Let's drive to my house first, okay? We'll clean you up and get you dressed and you'll be alright, okay, love?"

Louis feels like he keeps melting because Harry overuses the word "love" in his presence, but he just wants Louis to feel good and safe.

_And maybe he's crushing on him. Maybe._

_  
_

_  
_They're at Harry's room and Louis is comfortable. It's unusual and he feels like he shouldn't be but he is.

He's sat with his legs crossed on Harry's bed and Harry's gone for a second but he returns now, a blanket and a clean sweater in his hands.

Climbing next to Louis in the bed, Harry's loving eyes scan Louis' features, there's tears running down his cheekbones and Harry wipes them away with his thumb before letting it run over Louis' bloody lower lip too.

"Let's get you out of this shirt, it's..." Harry starts, eyes drifting off to where Louis' shirt hugs his chest tightly, and it's soaked with blood.  _God knows whose blood it is._

 _  
_Louis wriggles out of his shirt, and Harry _helps_ him and Louis just wants all this to stop. 

Hiss breath hitches in his throat when he sees Louis. He's so _fragile and skinny and it looks like his skin is just resting on his bones and there's nothing inbetween and he's gonna break if someone touches him too hard. And Harry can't help it, so he lets his hand run down Louis' chest, pushing him down really gently._

 _  
_"You're so skinny, love." Harry says, his voice is thick, muted, because tears are brimming his eyes and he's scared Louis' gonna see them.

" _So skinny"_ he whispers and gives in to the urge to kiss the smaller boys lips. 

They're thin and quivering and they fit Harry's full ones perfectly. It's a light, innocent and weak kiss and you could just consider it as someone letting his lips rest on someone else's but it means a lot more.

It's like Harry's shouting  _hey, it's alright, i'm here, look at me, love, look at me, i've got your back, don't you ever worry, because i'm here._

_Louis loves it, loves how Harry is hovering over him like he's protecting him from any evil, how he caresses his cheek like he's the most precious thing in the entire world._

_"Let me take care of you"_ Harry's voice is hardly a whisper against Louis' lips and it's hardly audible over Louis' soft cries and whimpers because he's kind of hurt and he's mad and sad and confused and everything has just taken over him.

Louis shuts his eyes tightly when the taller boy withdraws his touch to grab one of his sweaters and carefully pull it over Louis' head. 

Harry sits back, watches Louis steady himself in his huge sweatshirt and Louis looks so lost in it. So lost, Harry just wants to pull him in his arms again and keep him from drowning in everything.

Resisting the urge of doing so, he just takes some wet wipes and cleans Louis' face from the dry blood on his nose and lips, while blue eyes follow every motion of him. 

After cleaning him up, Harry carefully wraps a blanket around him. He's sat in front of Louis' tiny frame and tugs at the blanket to make it cover his bony shoulders. 

"Lie down, babe, sleep a little, I'll wake you up."

But Harry doesn't know he won't wake him up, because he doesn't know yet, that he's gonna fall asleep right next to Louis,  _his... crush,_ with him in his arms and his face hidden in his hair and a blanket covering their intertwined bodies.


	2. if you keep me thats okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since a lot of you (at least enough to convince me) asked for a sequel to "if you hold me that's okay", here it is!
> 
> Firstly I just wanted to say how happy I was to read your heart warming comments, literally I couldn't stop smiling all day.  
> Some of you lovely readers do have siblings/friends who suffer from Aspergers, and you told me, that I did describe it really well and I was so so so happy about that!  
> It is quite hard to describe situations like these If you haven't experienced them yourself, but it's really encouraging to hear that you guys like the way it's written.  
> For the few people who wanted to know, I've read a book about a boy with Aspergers and it got me really interested so I looked it up and read more stories of people who suffer from it, so this is where I have the inspiration/experience from.
> 
> So before I start rambling more, here is chapter 2 of it,
> 
> I really hope you like it just as much as part 1.
> 
> Dont forget to read the note at the end.  
> It's important this time.

Harry wakes up to a small figure wrapped in blankets and his sweatshirt next to him.  _Louis._

 _  
_He lies on his side, facing Harry, bruised knees pulled up to his chest and tiny hands tucked under the pillow to support his head.

Curious green eyes scan the fragile body, tiny nose scrunched up a little, eyes fluttering slightly under the lids, a hardly audible grunting noise coming from the back of his throat. His fringe is a bit sweaty and sticks to his forehead, the feathery hair on top of his head a sweet mess.

_Harry can't stop staring._  


 _  
_Reluctantly, he withdraws his gaze to take a glance at his phone. _4.52 p.m._

"Shit" Harry curses under his breath. School ended about two hours ago, Louis was supposed to arrive at his home about two hours ago but they both fell asleep about two hours ago.

Harry knows his biggest concern should be the fact, that there is a practical stranger in his bed and that he should be worried about what his mother is going to say but the only thing that gives him anxiety right now, is that Louis won't be allowed to see him anymore If his mother finds out about...

_all this._

  


_  
_Unsure of what to do, Harry softly nudges Louis' arm.

"Hey, Louis, love"

_Nothing._  


 _  
_He sighs, doesn't want to wake up this sleeping beauty, but he has to.

"Louis, you have to wake up, it's late, I'm gonna give you a lift home, okay? But you have to wake up, darling." Harry's voice is soft, still a little muted and drunk from sleep.

He thinks his heart  _melts,_ when he sees Louis' eyes fluttering, revealing an ocean of blue. 

Louis blinks, his pale pink lips part and Harry notices his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

"D-Did you sleep well?"

Harry wants to punch himself, because Louis makes him so weak, makes his voice turn into a stuttering whisper, makes him want to kiss him all over.  _Damnit._

Unfortunately, Harry doesn't get the response he hoped for;  _Louis screams._

 _  
_Louis squeezes his eyes shut and screams. He presses the palms of his now sweaty hands to his ears and screams.

Harry is clueless, doesn't know how to calm him, so he reaches out to touch Louis' arm.

_Which does not work as good as it did earlier that day._

_Not at all._

_  
_Louis flinches and swats Harry's arm away and Harry backs off, along with all the comfort he gave Louis earlier. Louis then crawls down the bed only to curl himself into a ball inbetween Harry's desk and closet. He keeps his hands pressed to cover his ears.

Louis feels safer now, Harry is scared, so he assumes he won't come closer and harm him. 

Harry sighs, now kneeling on the edge of the bed. His shoulders drop in disappointment and he quietly starts to speak, his calm eyes resting on the tiny, curled up figure that is Louis.

"Listen, Louis, love. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought you here-" 

 _Bullshit. I like you and I still don't see a point why I shouldn't have brought you to my house._ Harry adds in his thoughts, but he doesnt voice them.

"How about I just bring you home now, eh?"

Harry's heart is breaking. It's like Louis just stabbed it a million times without even noticing. He knows, that he should just accept Louis actions, since he can't do anything about it, but just hours before, he felt like he was someone special to Louis and that he could  _help_ this wonderful soul. And now Louis is just unknowingly tearing him apart.

Louis keeps panting heavily between his sobs and Harry's eyes start prickling with tears too, but he surpresses it, with all his force and focuses on the crying mess that is Louis.

"You can trust me, babe, I won't harm you, I never could." He murmurs reassuringly as he crawls closer to him.

"Trust me, alright?"

His voice is now hardly more than a whisper and he and Louis are only several inches apart.  _Louis is still shivering horribly._

 _  
_Nevertheless Louis nods his head the tiniest bit and Harrys eyes brighten a little at that, so he carefully lifts him onto his arms, bridal style, and raises himself. Louis, a tiny, crying and sobbing boy clutching his shirt, holding onto it for dear life, safe in his arms.

"Shh" Harry coos in his ear and he's surprised, almost _scared,_ because Louis is such a lightweight, there is no way that he's weighing as much as a 16 year old should do.

The hardest part about all this is carrying Louis down the stairs to the garage, where Harry's parked his van. He's holding Louis tight, yet so careful, like he's holding the most expensive china in his arms.

"Darling, you need to let go, otherwise I can't get in." Harry says to Louis, trying to get him comfortable on the passenger seat. Reluctantly and with a grumpy noise, Louis lets go of Harrys neck and slides into the seat, immediately pulling his knees up to his chest again and burrying his face in his hands.

Harry sighs, his eyes start to water again.  _What happened to this boy?_

 

The car ride is terribly quiet. Not one word is spoken. Harry doesn't dare to and Louis just doesn't want to, so the first spoken word ends up being Louis whimpering when Harry opens the door for him, since they have now arrived at Louis' home.

"Louis" This is the first time in hours that Harry used Louis' real name instead of some nickname, and Louis has to admit to himself, that he liked being called nicknames  _by Harry_ better.  _A lot better._

The moment Harry takes Louis shaking hand, at which Louis flinches at first, the door flies open and Louis' mom storms out of the house.

"Louis! Darling!" Her voice is broken and she keeps choking on her own words.

"Get off him, you... you..." She is looking for a word to insult Harry, but forgets what she was saying when he finds her son leaning into this strange boys soft touch.

"Don't touch my son" Her voice is high-pitched, a desperate whisper drenched with emotions she can't assign.

"Don't cry, mom" Louis murmurs now and Harry is relieved to hear him speaking again, but his heart _breaks_ again when he meets Louis' eyes and finds them red and wet. Louis' whole body goes numb and Harry quickly grabs him and carries him over to where his mom is standing like frozen on the doorstep, her shaky hands on her cheeks.

"I am so terribly sorry, ma'am. There was an incident at school and I took care of your lovely son and brought him home with me. I apologise, I should have brought him here right away, I don't know what made me think this was alright." Harry says, his voice stern and his eyes staring straight into Jays. Yet Jay senses a certain sensitivity and definite worry in his voice.

"Shall I carry him in? I mean, I can - I'll leave now but I-"

His desperate stuttering is interrupted by Louis sobbing useless phrases into Harry's shirt and suddenly those usless phrases turn into  _HarryHarryHarry_  and _StayPleaseDontGoHoldMeHarryImScared_.

 _  
_And Jay gasps.

Her hand flies up to cover her mouth and her gaze flicks from the sobbing mess in this boys arms, who isn't so strange anymore now, that is her son and Harry's fond eyes, who stare down at Louis.

 _"H-Harry?"_ She stutters, reminded of  _the_ Harry Louis couldn't stop talking about the other day.  _The_ Harry that made her little boys eyes light up like bloody shooting stars.  _The_ Harry that made her boy feel loved and as happy as ever.

"Yeah, 'm Harry." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY FOR ENDING IT LIKE THAT  
> but its sunday and I still have to do school stuff etc and I wanted to update like once, because y'all have been waiting so long and I know what it feels like to have to wait for a fanfiction you want to be updated (still waiting for Charly to update 'Sightless' on wattpad sigh).
> 
> So yeah, of course there's going to be another chapter since this one went out really short and kinda... not so well (it sounded better in my head) and there's something I wanted to ask you guys about like
> 
>  
> 
> would you like it to be an actual chaptered fanfic? Because I would not mind making it one, since it is quite hard to put a long story like this into a oneshot.
> 
> Only thing is, you'd probably have to be patient with me, I'd maybe update every two weeks or so, so please please please tell me If you'd read it If it was a continued fanfic because I'm actually considering writing one and yeah.
> 
> Also I wanted to say thank you again for the all the lovely comments, they're the best thing that can happen to a writer, so If you've got something nice to say, please always say it, it makes my day.
> 
> Thank you all so much for being real patient and stuff i love you and a special thanks to those lovely people who contacted me on twitter telling me they liked my oneshot, I almost cried while reading that, seriously.
> 
> So yeah, tell me If you want this to be a fanfic, If not, Ill post maybe one or two more chapters to finish off this whole thing and that would be it. But I'll just go with how you'd like it.  
> ily xx


	3. Wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry struggles with not seeing Louis so often.
> 
> The word 'wonderful' happens to come up quite a lot.

  
_Wonderful_

Jay attempts to repeat Harry's name in disbelief, but fails, choking on her own words. _Again._

 

"Harry, D-Darling, co-come in" She mutters under her breath and skips back to open the door.

Firstly, Harry is confused. Like,  _proper confused_ , but Jay gestures him to come inside and so he does.

Louis's shaking body is still limply pressed to Harry's chest and the taller boy keeps ducking his head down to whisper reassuring caresses into his ear.

Jay notices. It's impossible not to.

Harry's touch is one of the most wonderful and caring and loving touches she's ever seen. There is not a second Harry doesn't treat Louis like he's china. Jay loves seeing her son being treated like that. Because he deserves it.

 _He's been through so much,_ she thinks, almost voicing her thoughts, but she decides to leave it and just continue watching this boy treating her son the way he deserves. 

 _He's been through so, so much and this is his reward. This boy is so careful, so wonderful, he treats my boy like the prince he is in my mind._ Jay says to herself. Harry doesn't hear. He's busy, focusing on this wonderful soul in his arms.

He follows Louis' mother into the living room, carefully places Louis on the large sofa and he's about to pull away, when Louis’ hand finally moves and he clenches his fingers around Harry's bicep, lightly tugging it.

Harry throws a questioning glance at Jay. _A glance that asks for permission_. Jay is about to cry.

 Jay nods a little, choking back a sob when Harry carefully lifts her son’s torso a little to shuffle underneath him, so that his head rests comfortably in Harry’s lap.

Harry starts stroking Louis’ in his own sweatshirt covered arms very softly, then, when the fragile boy lets out a quiet whimper, he carts his fingers in his feathery hair.

Harry’s still murmuring sweet nothings into Louis’ hair, _you’re all safe, darling, I’ve got you, don’t cry, my love, I won’t let no one harm you._ It’s like Harry’s drowning in a sea of _Louis._

Jay clears her throat and it rips Harry out of his daze.

“I-I’m sorry” Harry says. He gets up, dropping Louis head to the sofa the most careful way possible.

“I should leave, uh- thank you, ma’am.”

Jay nods a little. She doesn’t want Harry to leave, neither does Louis.

But he leaves, leaving a cold and empty seeming living room behind. Harry spreads such warmth, accordingly he takes it all with him when he leaves.

 

 

Louis doesn’t go to school the next day. Or the day after. Or two days after.

To be exact, Harry doesn’t see him for twenty-three days. But who’s counting.

The people in school talk about Louis the first days and it upsets Harry a lot. They create stories that are absolutely degrading and obscene, one worse than the other. Harry wants to punch them in the guts. They deserve it. But he resists the urge to do so.

Some people he’s never even seen in his entire life ask him about Louis, pretending they care. Harry knows they’re just nosy so he doesn’t ever respond.

 

 

Too many days pass, it’s starting to get colder, and Harry keeps comparing the decreasing temperatures outside to the cold of his heart. The once so colorful, vivid leaves have now lifelessly fallen to the ground, creating a damp slick.

It’s early November, and it seems like it’s been raining constantly. The streets are drenched and the atmosphere is just depressing, no matter where you go. There hasn’t been a sunny day in weeks.

Harry’s at school, like any other day. He’s sitting in the classroom in which he’s first seen Louis and he knows it’s bloody cheesy but that is the only thing left to remind him of this wonderful boy. That, and the sweater which is now missing in his closet. _Harry doesn’t give a damn about the sweater, to be honest._

It’s Tuesday and Harry is supposed to be in school until 3.30, but his last period gets cancelled and Harry could not be happier about it.

He finds himself in the library, strolling through the aisles lifelessly. Eventually he sits down at his usual place by the radiator, letting the incredible warmth make his back tingle.

He reaches in his bag, pulling out a pile of sheets he’s collected for Louis. He asked Louis’ classmates to copy their notes so Louis won’t miss out too much. _(He didn’t mention Louis’ name during those conversations though)_

People would say he’s been making quite an effort for someone he doesn’t even know, who doesn’t even go to the same classes. He really does.

 

_But people make efforts for people they like. This is how we work._

Harry also wrote some things for Louis. Nothing big. Just… poems. Poems that may have made him stay up until 4 in the morning. Poems that may have made himself cry. Poems he’s maybe been reading over and over again, because he couldn’t find the right words. _Just poems._

He’s terribly insecure about them, which he really shouldn’t be, because they are truly impressing. But Harry doesn’t know how impressing they are, because he’s never showed them to anyone. He thinks of them as kind of embarrassing, although he really enjoys writing them. He doesn’t know he could make dozens of girls swoon and blush only by reading the first line.

Sliding them in the hidden little pocket in his bag he decides not to give them to Louis. _They’re not perfect yet._ He thinks. _And they’ll never be._

When Harry drives home this afternoon, the weather is more depressing than ever. It’s not raining, but it is about to and Harry just wants _this_ to end, because right now, his life feels like nothing but an endless suffering and every day he wakes up with what feels like even less content in his heart.

So when he passes Louis’ house unknowingly, his car comes to an abrupt stop, caused by Harry's sudden decision to try to decrease the current sadness in his life.

“Come on, Styles” He murmurs to himself, only to raise his eyebrows at himself seconds later, because _since when does he act like that._

Harry sighs heavily, forcing all the air out of his lungs. He swiftly opens the car door, breathing in the humid, yet cold air and letting his endless legs dangle out of the car, unconsciously dropping his heavy feet into a puddle of rainwater.

He can feel the wet drenching his sneakers, the uncomfortable dampness only emphasizing his shaking.

Harry takes one, two, three deep breaths and pulls the papers he’s got for Louis out of his bag and reluctantly steps towards the doorstep.

It’s quiet. Too quiet for Harry’s liking. The silence is like weight is resting on his chest.

It starts to drizzle, little droplets of water drenching Harry’s hair and he quickly shakes his head a little to fix the mop of hair. It doesn't work, really.

Harry is fiddling with the sheets, he’s shaking. It’s a constant and violent shaking and he probably couldn’t even keep a glass of water in his hands without pouring it all over the place.

He hesitantly raises his hand, fingers formed to a fist and gently knocks on the door, gently,  _in case he could disturb someone._

Harry doesn’t know Louis has been waiting for him to come. He doesn’t know Louis has been sitting on the front porch for days, waiting for Harry to show up. He doesn’t know how overwhelmed Jay is, because her son has never shown this much affection for _anybody. Not even his mice._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for cliffhangers, I know, and I'm really sorry.
> 
> I really really really hope you enjoyed this chapter, it took me ages to finish it because I sort of had a blockade (?).  
> However I had a lot to do for school but we have holidays the upcoming week so I'll have more time to write.
> 
> I promise Louis /will/ appear in the next chapter, okay?
> 
> Thank you again for all your heartwarming comments and for contacting me on twitter too, I literally swooned. (Especially mentioning Helena, who I talked to and she's so lovely and I hope you had fun skiing!)
> 
> i love all of you, thank you for staying patient with me  
> xx


	4. when harry finally knocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's at Louis'.

Harry knocks. Once. Twice.

He takes a step back, nervously skipping forward and backward on his toes.  _Harry is terrified._

 _  
_He has no idea what to say, has not planned anything, which is very unlikely for him. Harry _always_ plans things. Always.

A sudden ruffle behind the door rips him out of his thoughts. It's muted mutters and sharp whispers.

Suddenly the door is being opened swiftly revealing the soft and lightly sleep drunken face of an insecure Louis hiding behind the doorframe.

“Louis?” Harry’s lips immediately quirk up into a shy yet ridiculous smile when he sees him, all sheepish and fragile.

“It’s me, Ha-“

“Harry” Louis smiles. It’s not a big smile, but it _is_ one.

Harry blushes and Louis thinks he is way more than perfect. His hair is a little less curly than the last time he’s seen him, since it’s soaked from the rain. Louis wonders how long he’s been standing here.

Louis also kind of likes what Harry wears; a black button up and some really tight jeans. Louis wonders how his junk is supposed to breathe in them.

He now insecurely looks down on himself; grey sweatpants clutching his hips and a baseball shirt hanging loosely off his bony shoulders.

Harry wonders what it would feel like to place a delicate kiss there.

Louis’ kind of ashamed of the way he looks, compared to Harry.

“I apologize” he says and Harry’s eyebrows furrow in concern.

“Wha- Why?” Harry shakes his head a little, making his curls bounce in the most adorable yet irresistible way possible, then smiles softly.

“I don’t look nice.” Louis shrugs, keeps his gaze glued to the floor. Harry chuckles, which confuses Louis; he hasn’t said anything funny. Louis thinks Harry is laughing at him.

“You certainly do, Louis. You look adorable.” The last part just kind of slips and Harry mentally slaps his forehead. Hard.

Louis overhears the last part though, too focused on how lovely his name sounds when being spelled by Harrys pink lips. It sounds so reassuring, soothing, like it could take every pain and every tear in this world away. Louis wants his name to be said by Harry more often, he’d be pleased to drown in Harry’s voice and all his features. Basically, in everything that is Harry.

There’s silence for some time until Harry catches himself again and speaks up.

“I.. uhm- I’ve got some papers for you, school, you know” He murmurs, shaking the sheets in his hands.

“But you’re not even in my classes, Harry.” Louis enjoys saying Harry’s name, so he doesn’t hesitate to do so.

“Yeah, uhm. I just asked some people to copy the stuff and… stuff.” A decent yet thoroughly noticeable blush creeps up to his face and Louis gets this feeling in his knees again, the one that makes him want to curl up into a ball and cry over how perfect Harry is.

“That- That’s nice” Louis says.

Jay suddenly appears behind her son, a bright smile on her face. It suits her, Harry thinks. Smiling suits Louis’ mom.

“Louis, darling, why don’t you ask Harry to come in? You can show him around a little, show him your mice, and your room.” She smiles again, softly nudging Louis’ shoulder as he nods and takes a step back while Jay gestures Harry to just enter and follow him.

 _Jay is lovely,_ Harry thinks.

Louis doesn’t say anything, he heads straight up the stairs to where his room is.

“Please do not touch anything” he speaks before opening the door.

“I won’t, no worries.” Harry responds, following Louis inside.

His room is clean, just like Harry imagined it to be. _Not that he imagined what Louis’ room looks like. He certainly did not imagine what it would be like to kiss him on his bed either or how lovely it would feel to fall asleep by his side while stroking his back, no, he certainly didn’t imagine any of this._

Harry looks around a little, scanning one of the bookshelves. He’s read about 95 % of the books that are in there.

If there’s one thing that is completely different from his own room, then it’s how empty the walls are. _No posters of bands, no framed pictures of old friends, no fairy lights, nothing._

“What music do you like?” Harry blurts out,  sending Louis a weak smile, that’s got him melting.

“I don’t prefer a certain genre or something like that.” He’s motionlessly standing by his bed.

“Any bands?” Harry pushes a little, forgetting of how to talk to Louis, since he hasn’t seen him in what feels like ages.

“The Fray. Young The Giant. The Civil Wars.” He shoots.

Curiosity takes over Louis and he asks Harry about his favourite bands, to which Harry grins all too brightly in response.

“The 1975 are amazing. Arctic Monkeys. The Kooks.” Louis nods.

A couple minutes of comfortable silence pass until Harry clears his throat and hands the papers he’s got to Louis.

“Uhm… Shall I explain any of these things to you? I mean, there’s some new stuff, I guess and I took a look at it… turned out we went through it all already, so If you want me to-“

“Yes, please. That would be great.”

Louis smiles. Not because he wants to. He just can’t any different. It’s like someone is pulling the corners of his mouth upwards. Louis shivers slightly, frightened by the thought of someone who is not him having control over his body.

“Can- Can I sit?” Harry points to the bed. He bites his cheek, reddening because he literally can’t talk to this boy without stuttering and embarrassing himself.

“Sure” Louis hesitantly sits down several inches next to Harry. If he’s being honest to himself, he’d love to sit right next to Harry, maybe even in his lap. Maybe even with his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck and maybe even with his thin lips pressed to Harry’s full ones. _Maybe._

Harry starts explaining everything to him and Louis can hardly concentrate, too distracted by Harry’s smell, coconut and vanilla, and by Harry’s curls that tickle is skin from time to time when he leans in closer to look at the papers.

Louis gets hypnotized by the way Harry’s lips move when he speaks. He speaks slowly, trying his very best to make Louis understand what they did in school. _It’s agonizingly lovely._

Louis’ whole body starts to shake, he doesn’t know what’s going on with him, he wants to kiss Harry, soso badly, wants to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck and pull at his curls and place innocent little kisses down his neck until he’s out of breath.

Louis’ mind is all fuzzy now, he can hardly see what’s in front of him, his limbs are shaking, he’s dizzy, his heart is about to burst and he feels like he’s about to suffocate.

 _I’m going to pass out,_ he thinks.

And he’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a week to edit this chapter I'm really sorry! It's truly hard to find some time during a school week to write a new chapter but I've got a few things planned so it should be easier.  
> I hope you enjoyed this one, although it was quite short.
> 
> Love you all,  
> have a nice spring time  
> xx


	5. you heal, you sooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Larry involved here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 songs I recommend listening to while reading this chapter are
> 
> Say Something by Shawn Mendes  
> Oblivion by Bastille

Harry is in the middle of rambling about _la passé composé_ when he feels the weight on his left shoulder increasing. He turns, only to find Louis’ body limply pressed against his own side. His eyes are shut, brows furrowed.

“Louis?” No answer.

“Louis, are you okay?” Harry shifts and takes Louis in his arms, shaking him carefully, but he doesn’t regain his consciousness.

“Lou!” Harry panics, his heart is violently beating against his chest, his fingers are trembling like they never did before. The tips of his fingers feel like they’re burning.

“Come- Come here” He says, mostly to himself because, _well._

He hooks his right arm under Louis knees, the other one supporting his back and lifts him up, almost effortless. Louis is a lightweight, nothing but bones and a little flesh, so absolutely breakable and Harry is scared.

_Louis’ weight is in no way healthy, he knows, Jay knows, and now also Harry knows. Jay’s tried everything to get Louis to a normal weight, but it’s hard. He won’t eat when she wants him to, he keeps locking himself in his room for hours and hours, not eating nor drinking. Jay is about to surrender._

“Jay!” Harry yells, voice muted from the tears starting to brim in his eyes. _This is my fault,_ echoing in his head.

“Harry, darling, are you alright?” Jay’s sweet voice sounds from the living room.

“Louis, he’s-“

“Oh, honey!” Jay says and Harry is really not sure if she’s talking to him or the unconscious Louis in his arms.

“Lay him down on the couch, darling, would you?” Harry obeys immediately. Jay is gone for some seconds, but returns right after with a wet cloth and some pills.

“Put his legs in the air, we need the blood to rush back to his brain faster” Her voice is incredibly calm, like she’s been through this a ridiculous amount of times.

Harry holds Louis’ short, yet slim legs into the air, noticing how his thighs are about the size of his own bicep.

Jay puts the wet cloth on Louis’ forehead, leaning in closer and kissing his cheek and running her hands through his messy, yet absolutely perfect hair and Harry thinks, _he wants to do that too. He wants to take care of him and kiss his cheek, maybe his lips, and run his hands through his hair._

“Does- Does this happen more often?”

“Yeah… Yeah” Jay nods and presses her lips together in a firm line.

“’S alright, Harry. He’ll be fine. It’s just… too much for him from time to time.” Her gaze drifts off to her son. She still strokes his face very softly and then Louis’ eyes start to flutter, he regains consciousness and Jay as well as Harry let out a sigh of relief.

Harry suppresses the incredibly strong urge to cage Louis in his arms and kiss him all over.

“Mum” Louis croaks.

“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” Jay backs off a little, not wanting Louis to be uncomfortable.

“Where is Harry?” Louis blinks and rubs his eyes tiredly. Jay blinks as well, in pure astonishment. And Harry, well, he chokes on what seems to be his own saliva and coughs loudly.

“I-I’m here, Louis. Don’t worry. I’m here.” He hectically scoots up the couch, hesitantly putting his hands on Louis chest, not keeping him down or adding any pressure. It’s just a signal. _That he’s there. He’s here and he’s ready to hold him close anytime of the day, to kiss him whenever he feels like it and to protect him whenever he needs it._

_It’s just a signal._

“Harry” Louis _whimpers_ and Harry nearly _breaks into two pieces due to the affection he feels for this boy._

Jay still sits in astonishment, watching what is happening right in front of her eyes.

“Can you hold me?” Harry nods and accidentally lets a tear spill from his eyes.

“Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? I am sorry, I don’t want to hurt you, Harry.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut tightly until he sees nothing but a white blur, opening them again only to let the tears now run down his cheeks. He wants to speak, so badly, tell Louis that he didn’t do anything wrong, that he’s alright. He can’t. His voice is going to crack if he’d do so.

Harry just bends down right above Louis’ face, shutting his eyes again, causing thick droplets of tears to run down his reddened cheeks even faster.

Louis, in response, lifts his hand up to wipe those tears away. He’s been taught so by his mother.

_Take care of your loved ones, Louis. Wipe their tears, make them smile and make them keep their smile._

Louis’ small fingers keep softly caressing the skin under Harry’s swollen eyes and Jay has lost it by now, rushing out of the living room only to burst out in tears of… _joy? Worry? Relief?_ She can’t put her finger on what it is.

“Did I make you cry, Harry?” A loud sob escapes Louis’ lips and he mentally scratches himself to punish him for being so stupid. His voice is so quiet, broken and shaking, if it wasn’t for the horrifying silence in the room you couldn’t hear it at all. But Harry does. He hears it.

“We’re good, okay?” Harry manages to choke out. His hands unconsciously slip from where they’ve rested on Louis’ chest to his neck, touching every inch of skin he gets to.

“We’re all good” He repeats with closed eyes letting his lips find their way up Louis’ jawline and cheekbones, leaving the most gentle kisses all along the exposed milky skin.

“S ’good” He says one last time before dragging his lips on top of Louis’ and kissing him, lips moving the slightest bit, making him feel what feels like every single cell on his skin. _It’s not romantic, not sloppy, not erotic, not powerful._

_But it’s meaningful, it’s gentle, it’s soft, it’s tears mixed with heavy sighs and it’s caring. Yes, that’s what it is. Caring. The most wonderful a kiss like this can be._

Louis sobs into the kiss, Harry soothes him by stroking his bare forearms, up and down unconsciously forming goose bumps on his soft skin.

A hot tear trickles down Louis cheek, Harry soothes it by pressing his face closer and wiping it dry.

And yes, they both could spend ages doing this.

This is the most comfort Louis has ever felt, the most tenderness Harry has ever given, the most _home_ Jay has ever seen her son in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID THIS DECREASE THE PAIN FROM LAST TIME I HAVE TO SAY IM SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER I LEFT YOU WITH LAST TIME, HOPEFULLY THIS TIME IT WASN’T THAT BAD  
> To be completely honest with you, I am quite proud of how this chapter turned out to be and I can happily announce that my writers block is now gone. I swear, I’ve had it for weeks and that is most probably the reason why the previous chapters turned out to be not so well (well, I wasn’t really happy with them). I apologize again.  
> Anyway, I was really excited to post this chapter so I certainly hope you enjoyed it. Also, it has like 1 000 words, which is probably a new record of mine for a chapter? I don’t know.  
> Please don’t forget to tweet me, I looooove talking to you. (@givelourrylove)
> 
> I’ll post the next chapter as soon as I can and thank you soooo much for 7k hits, I nearly cried.  
> No, wait.  
> I actually did.  
> bye for now, I love you loads


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you even start reading-
> 
> I AM SO SORRY I HAVENT UPDATED IN LIKE A MONTH AND I FEEL LIKE A TERRIBLE TERRIBLE PERSON BUT I JUST.
> 
> It was my birthday a week ago so I couldn't update back then and then I had writers block again and it is the absolute worst but I'm back now with a shitload of fluff and I hope you enjoy it and that's really it.
> 
> Also, thank you so much for 9k reads that's unbelievable, I never imagined so many people to like my story.  
> And since I'm at it already, I might as well advertise some other good stories I've seen recently (mainly on wattpad).
> 
> So my current absolute favourite fanfic is "Confessions of a gay disney prince", you should definitely check it out.
> 
> Thanks for keeping up with my shit, I love every single one of you and I mean it.

Harry startles when he feels cold hands clamping his shoulders, only to relax again as soon as he realizes they’re Louis’, clinging to him.

He holds onto him for dear life, to be exact.

Every word escaping Harry’s mouth is just endless rambling, _I’m here, Louis, don’t be scared, I’m protecting you, I’m holding you, but please, please don’t let me go._

Louis, in reply, holds on tighter, burying his face deep into where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder.

“Harry, can you stay?”

“Yeah. Look, I’m right here.”

“No, s-stay the night.”

“Louis, darling, I don’t think I can.”

There is a heart breaking expression of hurt turning Louis’ soft features into a frown.

“Please, sleep in bed with me... and hold me, I don’t want you to leave me, Harry, please don’t leave.”

Harry’s heart clenches. It burns, it stings, it’s knocking all the air out of his lungs. It feels like it’s going to implode.

The boy beneath him now looks up to him with big watering eyes, pleading.

“Please” He says, barely audible. If Harry wasn’t only a few inches away from him, he would have overheard it. _He hasn’t._

“Okay.” Harry is torn. He’s not even sure If Jay wants him here (she does), or If his mother would mind If he wouldn’t come home tonight (she wouldn’t) or If Louis actually wants him here (he does) or If it’s just a short-whiling phase (it’s not).

“Thank you” Louis’ grip tightens and he involuntarily presses their clothed chests together.

Louis would love to know what it feels like to have Harry’s bare chest against his. He doesn’t talk about it, though. He’s ashamed of having thoughts like these, even though it feels so _natural_ with Harry. So _self-evident_ and just _right._

 _Yes,_ he thinks, _that’s the word I was looking for. It feels right._

Everything with Harry feels right. _Harry is right._

“Lou, do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?”

Louis can’t help but smile at Harry calling him that, _Lou._ It’s involuntary, he swears.

“I’m hungry.” He replies with croaked voice.

“I’ll be right back, love. Just a second.”

But Louis keeps clinging onto him.

“Louis, plea-“

“It’s fine, Harry.” Harry looks up. It’s Jay standing in the doorway with a sly smile on her face. Her eyes are red and wet, stained from tears. Louis hopes it wasn’t him, who caused them. He doesn’t know they’re tears of joy, hope, fondness.

“I’ll make dinner for you two. What would you like? Noodles, honey?” She peeks at Louis, burrowed under Harry’s chest.

“No, I can help, really. I like cooking, I... I’m good at it. Uhm, I mean my mom says so. I bake good cake. And- and of course I could cook noodles, too, if Louis wanted some... d-do you want noodles, love?”

_Harry is rambling. He’s rambling absolute non-sense. He can’t stop. It’s embarrassing._

“Well, I think you might have a problem cooking with this boy holding onto you for dear life.” Jay chuckles, mimicking Louis’ tight grip on Harry. _Louis doesn’t notice. He’d be offended. He doesn’t want to look clingy, despite that he is just clingy as fuck these days._

“I’ll cook.” And with that, Jay leaves the living room and disappears in the kitchen.

“Harry, can we sleep?” Louis says Harry’s name _a lot._ He likes how it just slips off his tongue effortlessly. He’s not afraid of saying it. He also likes saying Lottie’s and Fizzy’s name, _two consonants,_ but Harry’s is just a tad better.

_Okay, maybe more than ‘just a tad’._

“Yeah, let’s sleep.” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck. He fights the urge to just nip at the soft skin and kiss him all over.

After a few more seconds Harry picks Louis’ up, still amazed of how there’s hardly a difference between carrying him and carrying his 10 year old cousin.

They trip up the stairs, well, Harry does. He gently puts Louis down after, placing him on his bed and covering him neatly with the sheets.

Harry places a soft kiss on Louis forehead, one of the kinds that mean something like _I care about you_ and _Nothing and no one is ever going to hurt you when I’m with you,_ and says “I’ll be right back”.

He pigeon-footedly stumbles down the stairs to assist Jay in the kitchen, _because that’s just what Harry is like._

“Oh, Harry, dinner is almost ready, I’ll bring you some, only a couple more minutes, yeah?” Jay is smiling at Harry, then turns around again to continue stirring something on the stove.

“No need to hurry, I came here to help. Is there anything to clean up maybe?” He looks around, snatching a dishcloth and starting to wipe the plates and pots dry.

“Will you stop already!” Jay chuckles and playfully smacks Harry’s arm.

“Now go upstairs, your-“ She coughs. “Louis probably misses you already.”

Reluctantly Harry leaves, quickly picking up his phone to text his mother he won’t be home tonight.

 

Less than a minute later he finds Louis in his room, eyes closed and soft whimpers of sleepiness falling from his lips. Harry beams at the sight.

This is lovely. Louis is lovely. Harry thinks he could spend the rest of his life like this, watching Louis fall asleep and just… being with him.

 

He hesitates, the voices in his head arguing about whether he should join Louis in the bed or just stay here, some feet away. The matter settles itself when Louis peeks up from under the blanket and makes grabby hands at him.

A very strange yet incredibly comfortable warmth spreads around Harry’s heart and his limbs start to tingle.

Harry walks over and carefully slips beneath the covers next to Louis, unsure of where to put his hands and legs. He eventually settles with one arm slung around Louis’ back, the other one holding Louis’ hand as he places his head on Harry’s chest and drapes his arm around his waist.

Harry kisses Louis’ hair, it smells like roses and coconut and Harry just feels _engulfed_ in Louis’ presence.

It’s perfect.

 


	7. there's colours and love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry brings Louis to a very nice place he likes and they murmur a little and yeah that's all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst person on earth. I'm horrendous. I feel so guilty.  
> I haven't updated in like a month and there is no excuse for this. Really not.
> 
> It's just that writers block is hard to handle and yeah.
> 
> So here we are again. This chapter is awfully short but better than nothing I guess?
> 
> If you want to know what was going on in this rudely long time I haven't been updating, I can inform you at the end, so.
> 
> Have fun reading. And I'm sorry. Again.

On Sunday, Harry finds himself at the front porch of the Tomlinson’s house once again, accompanied by a book that has been read fourteen times and an empty hand that craves to be held. His eyes scan the uneven path while walking to the front door. He raises his knuckles up to the dark mahogany wooden door and knocks.

A large jumper greets him, and hiding somewhere beneath it, there’s a boy.

“Hello, sunshine.” Harry’s inside burns. The very edges of his mouth curl up in a smile that cannot be suppressed.

Rose petals stain Louis’ cheeks and he tries to wipe the colour off. Useless. It stays there.

“H-Harry” Louis body sinks lower into the jumper, it’s like the material widens, the sleeves extend and _somehow_ Louis just managed to look even tinier. Also, he has somehow managed to make Harry’s inside burn even wilder. _Somehow._

Harry very hesitantly reaches his hand out for Louis to hold. Louis very hesitantly grabs it.

A brief, yet soft and warm and protecting kiss imprints itself onto Louis’ right cheek.

“Let me just deliver this to your mother, okay, Lou?” Louis nods his head softly and makes himself drown even further in his sweater, attempting to feel safer and more hidden.

Harry is indeed back only a few seconds later, after he dropped off _Mood Indigo_ and a warm smile for Jay.

“Where are we going, Harry?” Louis soft voice speaks from beneath the sleeve he keeps covering his lips with.

“A place you will really like.” In an all too swift moment, Harry longs for Louis’ sleeve and sneaks his hand inside it to hold Louis’ warm hand.

His two earlier companions, the book as well as the empty hand, are gone. Harry is happy to be alone with Louis and his warm hand now.

“Can you tell me where we are going, please?” It’s not harsh or anything. Really. Louis just wants to know. And despite that Harry wanted to make it a surprise _so badly,_ he tells him. Louis is glad, thankful.

_He’s in love._

Not that he’s ever been, no. In fact, Louis has no idea if this is this thing people tend to call ‘love’. How do people know it’s love anyway? Maybe they are all just estimating.

(‘This feels alright. Well, it’s probably love or summat.’)

Does he even want to _be_ in love, or does he just want to _know_ what it feels like to be in love?

Louis gravely pushes this thought away, with a lot of effort, because it causes him pain and confusion, and he doubts that this is what being with Harry should feel like.

No, being with Harry causes feelings nowhere near confusion or uncomfortableness. Being with Harry is fun, and soothing and loving. His outstretched hand is like an invitation to paradise.

So here Louis is now, on the very verge of paradise, because Harry’s hand is hardly touching his anymore. But. He’s driving now and Harry really can’t give Louis more than a few brief touches or otherwise he’ll crash the car. Quite literally.

After only a few minutes painted with comfortable silence, Harry pulls over and parks his car, jumping out right afterwards to assist Louis with getting out of the vehicle, which Louis could have managed on his own, really, he might have Asperger’s, but he’s capable of doing things with his _feet_.

Louis does not mind though, because Harry takes his hand again and almost _lifts_ him off his truck.

They both let their gazes drift off onto what is displayed ahead of them. A wide meadow spreads itself across this place. Trees, which seem like they have been carefully picked, frame the lawn and _oh so far away_ from the spot they’re standing at is a huge oak tree which looks awfully nice to lie under. _Louis is in love with this place._

In fact, he’s in love with the fact that Harry chose this place. Or, he’s just madly in love with Harry himself. Yeah, that would be the other way around.

 

Said boy is still softly gripping Louis’ hand and _wow, he hasn’t even made an attempt to let go of it yet and Louis enjoys it so much._

“Let’s go”, Harry whispers. His voice is the softest it has ever been. He very softly nudges Louis’ arm and starts walking, grip still a little tight on Louis’ little hand. And it should be too overwhelming for Louis. He shouldn’t be able to breathe anymore.

But he’s fine. Alarmingly. Surprisingly. He is okay. Really. No panic attacks, no seizures. Nothing. There is nothing but pure and satisfying happiness, _relief_ and a little burning sting in his chest he tries to ignore.

They walk through the knee-high grass together, side by side, both of them stealing touches every ten seconds by a very subtle bump of shoulders or so.

“Y’wanna sit down here?” Harry asks and points to the ground, where blankets of daisies and tulips and heartseases meet.

“Yes” Harry smiles and flops down onto the grass, patting the spot beside him. Louis sits down and starts picking some of the flowers, collecting them in a little bouquet in his lap.

“How’ve you been, Louis?” Harry sits still, watching every of Louis’ very motions.

Louis doesn’t lie. He doesn’t. He can’t, actually.

“Not so good.” Louis is not really showing emotions, he just speaks in a frighteningly monotone voice and keeps picking at the flowers in his lap.

Harry gulps.

“W-Why? Do you wanna tell me?”

_And yeah, he can._

“Miss you.” Louis speaks. “I don’t like not being with you.”

 

O _h._

Harry smiles. One of the truest and most genuine smiles there was in weeks, months even.

“Well, you’re with me now.”

Harry is the worst at hiding. He can’t hide sadness, or anger or disappointment. Neither can he hide happiness, joy or relief.

So he grins, dimples digging deep into his cheeks. _Louis is going to drown in them._

“I feel safe. And… And I want to thank you for that, Harry.”

_And Harry suddenly realizes that Louis is nothing like everyone in school expects him to be. They think he doesn’t care. About others. About what others think of him. About people in general. Well, the thing is, he does. He cares and he observes and he understands._

Harry decides to say nothing. He just carefully runs his warm hands down Louis’ sides and invites him to sit in his lap and _Louis has never wanted anything so badly._

So Harry pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms carefully around his back, and trailing the tips of his fingers over the bumps in Louis’ spine.

“Louis, you’re so skinny”

_Broken voice._

“Please, eat more, baby.”

“’Kay.”

_Small voice._

_Croaked. Sprinkled with the colour of sobbing and sadness._

“Thank you.”

_Muted voice. Lost in the colour of the sky._

And it’s really just breathing and holding and caring and soft kissing and touching and craving and both of them are fine with what it is.

***

“Why did you bring us here, Harry?”

“I don’t know. I-I mean, I do. Know. I know why I brought us here. It’s pretty. Like. Like you? And very calm and no one is ever here so yeah. And yeah.”

Louis smiles. Quite foolishly. Why does he even smile so hard, he wonders. But it’s Harry.

“I like it.”

Harry hums into Louis’ hair. Softly. Kissing his scalp because why not.

 

 

“I think it’s drizzling.” Harry scrunches his nose, looking up in the sky, painted grey like someone hurriedly painted over it with watercolours.

“Yeah?”

“Home?”

“Yeah.”

And really, they don’t care that they’re soaked when they arrive at the car. Because pouring rain might be surprising, but that doesn’t mean it’s unwanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update on what I did during this period of ignorance aka not-updating:
> 
> \- watch all seasons of teen wolf in one go
> 
> \- read The Book Thief, which is where I got this concept including colours from
> 
> \- cry over how lovely your comments are
> 
> \- mentally punch myself to make the writers block go away
> 
> \- start reading To Kill A Mockingbird again
> 
> \- suffer from the imense pain that is contact lenses
> 
> \- spend hours and hours on tumblr ( www.perksofshippingbullshit.tumblr.com - it's cool now!)
> 
> \- miss dan terribly (which i still do) because she's on vacation in greece [damn you, greece]
> 
> \- feel like im missing a limb caused by the lack of talking to dan
> 
> \- START TWO NEW ONESHOTS I AM VERY EXCITED TO UPLOAD
> 
> so yeah.  
> thank you for your patience.  
> sorry for having to be patient.
> 
> i love you all.  
> really.
> 
> be careful with me im sensitive okay?  
> okay.
> 
> [sorry]
> 
> oneshots shall be coming soon.


	8. Final chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis feels physically attracted to Harry, which is... new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.  
> After 2 and a half years, I decided to write the final chapter of this mess. Well not really. It's actually 2am and I happened to come back on ao3 and read all the lovely, heart-warming, //encouraging// comments people have been leaving on this story for the past years (literally, years) and I felt awful, having abandoned this.  
> I know it's late (in the sens of 2am and in the sens of 2016) but after so much time has passed, I still kind of found my way back to ao3 and I felt like I owed this to the people who still had some hope in me (is there anyone, actually? haha) and I don't even care if no one reads this last chapter I just needed to write it to get this finished and maybe start new things. So here is the final chapter of "if you hold me that's okay", which is not really good but it's something. It's here, okay?
> 
> Please respect that my writing style and use of vocabulary has changed, it's been 2 years since I've written things like these, and in this time I learned French fluently which kinda led to loss of the English language. Great.
> 
> Anyway, if you notice a twenty one pilots lyrics reference, you rock.  
> I love you all, I really do, because I love the world. Well, most of it. I try to.
> 
> GOODBYE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. FOR EVERYTHING, ACTUALLY.
> 
> love,  
> t

Louis sits on his desk chair, feet uncomfortably tucked beneath his bum – he’s always uncomfortable, it’s only bearable with Harry – picking his cuticles while listening to Harry talking about Gemma’s revisit from University for Christmas. Harry sits on the bed since Louis asked him to, his legs crossed neatly.

“So she’ll be coming for Christmas, possibly with her new boyfriend, even though mom says that’s destroying our ‘ _family only’_ Christmas traditions. But Gemma has never been one to care too much about that. She’ll find a way to get mom to invite him personally, I’m sure. I remember when I was li-”

“Harry, will you take your shirt off?”

There is an unsettling yet sincere security in Louis’ voice. Nonetheless, Harry is caught off guard. Very much off guard.

“What?”

“I asked you to take your shirt off. Please?” A lot of the security that Louis had only just held in his voice has disappeared, and Harry would feel awful for exposing Louis to a situation like this, really awful, if only he was able to discern anything other than the burning heat he believes to feel underneath his scalp.

“Why… I mean, yeah. Sure. I can… Now? “

Louis drops his head in a half-nod, his eyes fixed on Harry’s grey t-shirt. They’re not moving an inch, like a lion observing his prey. Or not. Because Louis is very far from being a lion, thinks Harry.

Hesitantly, Harry starts pulling his shirt over his head, getting his hair awfully messed up. Louis wants to touch it, get it all back into place. Or make it worse.

Harry feels a bit weird and confused, sitting on Louis’ neatly made bed, bathing in cluelessness. Happening to be shirtless. Because Louis asked him to.

Louis just really wanted to see him. Like this. He wants to touch him and feel a little more warmth than he would feel through a shirt. In fact, _fuck_ , Louis would very much like to kiss Harry. On his chest. His nipples. _No, fuck, everywhere._ He wants to kiss him everywhere. And it does not help that Louis feels absolutely frozen and burning right now. His whole body is glued, frozen to the chair. His flesh is burning beneath the skin. The contradictions are messing with his brain, his _stupid, fucking brain_ that wants to kiss Harry all over, crawl near him, as close as possible, under his skin if possible, try out all the possibilities of what the universe could be laying out for him. _Possibilities._ Louis sees _possibilities._

Yet at the same time, of course, his brain, his _stupid, fucking brain_ wants air, wants space, wants his two mice. His brain wants _white,_ just a little nothing that gets everything into place, where it’s supposed to be. Because naked Harry on his bed is not supposed to be.

The contradictions burn and freeze his brain. Louis’ gaze is empty and full. And scary, if Harry didn’t love him this much.

Can Harry provide _white,_ a little nothing that gets everything into place, where it’s supposed to be?

“Lou?” Harry’s voice makes Louis snap out of his _stupid, fucking_ thoughts and his thighs loosen from the chair. They heat up his body to make him move. But at the same time it feels like a soft blow, reigniting the flames that have almost vanished. Louis could not hate him, could not love him more.

“Do you want to come over here?”

_Does he? Does he want to come over here?_

Harry moves back on the bed, resting his head against the wooden frame and giving Louis an open, welcoming look. Louis moves over, pressing his body under Harry’s held out arm. The (very different) lengths of their bodies are touching wherever they can.

“Is this okay, Louis?” Harry asks as he tries to make himself comfortable, less burning and freezing, not knowing what to do.

There is no answer. Louis has to focus on what to do. On the rapid movements of Harry’s chest that the boy desperately tries to conceal.

Harry feels like he got lost in space with neither a spaceship nor an idea of what to do. He closes his eyes for some seconds until he suddenly feels a cold hand placed on his chest, right where his beating heart hides beneath his ribs. He never knew what side of his body his heart was placed in, but thanks to Louis, he might never forget.

Goosebumps erupt from Harry’s skin and he swears, it is _not_ because of the _cold_ of Louis’ hand. Mesmerized, Louis skims his hand down Harry’s abdomen, leaving another trail of goosebumps behind.

“You feel very warm, Harry.” It doesn’t sound like a _compliment,_ a positive statement. Not negative either, though.

But Harry smiles. He presses a firm kiss to the side of Louis’ head.

“You feel nice, Louis.” The small boy seems to be caught off guard by this phrase. He looks up while his hand subconsciously travels lower, he does not notice the sudden jump of Harry’s muscles.

“No one says this to me. Ever.” He’s so serious.

“Why, it’s true. Your hand feels very-“ Louis squeezes Harry’s side, scratching his nails along. “Uhm. Go-od. Y-Your hand feels good.”

“Wh- Yeah? What do you want me to do, Harry?” And _god_ , Louis stares at him with this looks that says… too much at once. Harry has never been the fastest reader and he feels like, _he knows_ , he’s too slow to catch all the words that are dropping out of Louis’ eyes and landing on the blanket with a soft thud.

“Nothing. I-I don’t want you to do anything, love.” Leading Louis to do something like – something like _this_ would be wrong. Harry doesn’t want _wrong._ He wants _right_ and he wants Louis. _He wants Louis._

Louis’ cold hands are still placed very low, right above Harry’s pants. He wonders whether Louis can feel his muscles twitch restlessly and his skin heat up from the contact – regardless of its coldness.

“Harry” Louis’ breathy voice ripples along Harry’s eardrum, making waves erupt, waking the tide. _Harry always knew Louis was the fucking ocean._

Louis puts his hands on his chest, his thumbs pressing into his nipples. His warm breath on his neck is present like a weight on his chest. A nice weight. The kind that makes you aware of how good it feels to breathe.

“Louis, Louis, look at me.”

Louis’ gaze shoots like a gentle weapon (is that a thing? Louis just made it a thing) in Harry’s direction.

“Look, there- uhm.” And  _god,_ it's so hard to talk to him like this. _Like this_ , with Louis perched half on top of him, an innocent hand drawing gentle nothings on his chest, pressing warmth into him from the cold fingertips. _Let’s not question the chemical aspects of this_ , Harry thinks.

Harry eventually urges his thoughts to come spilling out of his mouth. "There will be so many more days of... this- of us. And I don't want you think you need to do anything you don't like, to... _please_ me. That's. That's not why I like you _. I like you for you._ "

Louis’ fingers on Harry’s chest stop moving for a second or two. _I like you for you._ Hm. Bizarre. He’s being _liked?_ For something as _banal_ as himself?

He’s thinking, the heat and the cold present as ever.

“I need to tell you something that I’ve decided, Harry. Well, not really decided. It’s not my _decision._ It just _is._ You know, like the fact that China just _is._ Or Nepal. You know.”

Of course he doesn’t _know._ But if there’s one thing that Harry has learned, a new trait of character that he has _achieved_ , discovered within himself while being with Louis, it’s an everlasting patience. Because no matter what he might be talking in this moment, _about how China and Nepal just **are** , _Harry knows that at the end of this train of thoughts, Louis will tell him something he’ll understand. For now, he just needs to listen. Because Louis not only needs to be heard, but to be listened to. To encourage Louis to continue whatever he has started about decisions and China, Harry strokes his back and sides in slow movements.

“So these things just _are_ , they exist. And so do people. People like me and you. Especially me, because I just _am_ , you see? And you, you _exist_ , you bloom, you love. A-and what I think I am trying to say is-“

_Pause. Endless pause. For everyone. Louis. Harry. The universe. Passers-by hold their breaths. No one knows what is going to happen. The world waits. Harry waits. You and me, we wait for the words to follow._

“I think I’ve been falling in love with you lately. I hope that’s okay. I can’t help it anyway.”

Harry’s eyes widen, his hands tighten around where he placed them on the boy in his arms, his whole body becomes tense with love and love and happiness and love and flowers and great, lovely shit and even more love and _holyshitharryissoinlovewithlouisthereisnowayhecanwithholdhimselfforanothersecond._

“So, all this being said-“ Louis begins, speaking in a matter-of-fact way as if he was about to sign some serious contract and not as if he had just made the first and probably last love declaration of his life. “excuse me when I do this, Harry.”

So he’s casually leaning in – Louis never does things in a casual way – and presses a tender kiss to Harry’s lips, allowing himself to slightly open his mouth, feel a little more of this beautiful boy, feel a little more heat than he’s known so far.

They kiss. They want it to last forever.

And it will, because this story ends here.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my first oneshot ever, forgive me please
> 
> plus, im sorry for the way i ended it idk it could have been better?
> 
> i was inspired by "the curious incident" by Mark Haddon, i did inform myself about Asperger's syndrome, quite a lot even, yet i dont know how exactly affected people act and live, but i did my best to describe it the way i understood.  
> thank you so so much for reading, i really appreciate nice comments.  
> be good with me, it was my first work
> 
> (by the way, id be pleased to have you as a mutual and give me ideas and inspiration so follow me on twitter i'm @givelourrylove)


End file.
